


As Fireflies

by EffingEden



Category: Hurog - Patricia Briggs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward and Tis are married at the Palace. Oreg is lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mahmfic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mahmfic).



> Written for the comment_fic prompt;
> 
> Any, any, Fireflies

“You look very lonely,” came the soft, careful voice. Kellen had no training in stealth, but even so, how close he had come without Oreg realising it made him start, head twisting towards the royal speaker and body going from idle laziness to radiating tension like a pregnant storm before the first clap of thunder.

Kellen’s silhouette raised his hands, fingers splayed wide in a overt show of harmlessness and mute apology. “I thought you would like a little company. If not, forgive my intrusion.”

Oreg forced a smile, and forced himself to relax once more, though that in itself was a lie. “It’s your garden, Majesty. You cannot intrude on what you possess.” He looked away from the young man to watch the fireflies dance in the cool night air, tilting his head as he watched them. 

“Yet you are my guest. I give you the privilege of my company - or my absence. Whichever you wish.”

It was so strange, to be treated with such reverence. More so to have it come from the High King. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. He let the offer hang between them for a long moment, before he nodded once. “I would be greatful. I tend to think too deep when...” He stalled, his gaze flicking to the man. 

“...When left alone too long,” Kellen finished. “Yes, I know how that is.” Of all the humans Oreg knew, Kellen alone would be the one who would understand that. Locked in a cramped cell, alone for hours on days at a time with only a handful of minutes every so often that were spent in the company of another soul. That gave a lot of time to think. Far too much. 

“Yes,” he breathed. Then he stirred himself, brightening his tone to something acceptable. “The wedding went well. The party you gave them was much grander than any I have seen. It will be remembered for... hmn. At least until you find a wife of your own.” 

Kellen snorted, and drifted away from the arch, coming into the light of one of the braziers. His hands glittered with golden rings as he extended them towards the fire, as did his eyes, fixed on Oreg. “No plans for such a lady, yet. The nobles must be assured I am no puppet, and that my mind is sound before they will offer up their daughters.”

“Lack of sanity never held them back before. I’d say they were waiting on assassins or perhaps an uprising to see you out - if I was cynical.” 

The High King made a stifled sound, as if choking on a laugh. “I see. Well, that would be a waste of a daughter.” He fell silent, and they listened to the sounds of a hundred people dancing in time to a particularly complex tumble of notes. Oreg glanced at him again, seeing an expression of rapture on the young man’s face. 

Oreg realised then, maybe the King hadn’t been looking for him, really, but the lack of pandering nobility that would hound him anywhere else. The nobles feared the Hurog wizard more than they wanted to snatch a few moments of otherwise uninterrupted time with Kellen. Brave Kellen. Perhaps stupid, too. Ward was with Tis, in their honeymoon room. Doing what all newlyweds did on their first night together. Which meant there was no one to take Oreg in hand, should he forget himself. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” Kellan said, the caution returning to his tone. He did a good job of sounding confident and powerful in front of his court, but it was very much a mask, one he’d have to wear all his life. That he let it slip around Oreg was telling. He didn’t think of Oreg as a threat, or that he didn’t count him as a subject... or something else. Oreg had little experience with nobles who were not of Hurog breeding. “I want to ask you to... stay. When Ward goes South, stay the season here.”

It was unexpected. Kellen had hardly spoken to him before this, and nothing beyond what was formerly respectful. Oreg blinked, and said, “My Lord would have me accompany him.” He hadn’t thought he could do anything but follow where Ward went. 

“During the ceremony, you looked... lonely. Perhaps we could be.... less lonely if we are together?”

It was awkwardly said, and quietly spoken, so soft the crackle of the fire and the flow of music drifting on the air almost overwhelmed it. The High King was offering himself to a slave. This had to be a dream. It took a lot for Oreg not to laugh at the madness of the situation, but he managed to keep his amusement from showing. He wasn’t a slave any longer, and Kellen was a young man who would be hurt to hear a laugh, now, no matter the cause. 

It was a moment before he trusted his voice not to waver. “I would like that. Tisalla is a good woman... some distance would help keep me from hating her.” He liked Tis, she was Ward’s perfect match. And Ward had made it clear that day on the mountain he saw Oreg as a brother. They were both precious to him, and maybe, if he let himself be distracted, it might draw the poison of jealousy from his heart. 

Kellen’s breath left him in a rush - had he been holding it? The idea tugged a smile onto his lips. There was something charming about Kellen’s uncertainty, the artless yearning of fresh, untried flesh. He knew what Oreg was, knew and still asked. Brave or stupid? What sort of person would court a dragon?

Whichever it was, they would find out together.


End file.
